


The Last of Us

by IMtheDevil



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Gen, Gods!AU, Idols as gods, Monsta X as Greek Gods and Goddesses, Mythology References, Survival, Theoi, gods as idols, largely canon-compliant aside from the whole gods thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-17
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-01-15 13:19:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18499777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IMtheDevil/pseuds/IMtheDevil
Summary: The last of the Theoi have survived by jumping through lifetimes with the help of the Moirai. Seven of the remaining gods and goddesses have been reincarnated as idols, brought together by their leader. They’re at their most powerful, yet the elation is tinged with worry: the Moirai are nowhere to be found and Shownu’s military service looms ahead. Will they manage to find the Moirai in time?Guide to CharactersShownu: ApolloWonho: AphroditeKihyun: HestiaMinhyuk: HermesHyungwon: HypnosJooheon: DionysusChangkyun: Athena





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I will refer to certain members as Shownu, Wonho, and Changkyun. Purely because I can’t break my habit.

Changkyun lifted his head to scan the crowd, blinking thoughtfully behind wire rims. Slots never seemed to be empty these days at fan events. Good. As time passed, more and more supporters both South Korean and international flocked to their events, whether album signings or concerts. Monbebes were born every second, it seemed. This didn’t even come close to their heyday, but they did what was needed to sustain themselves. A sound rumbled and he couldn’t tell where it came from—inside or outside of his body? Minhyuk leaned over and hissed at Changkyun.

“Drink your coffee.” Minhyuk plastered on a smile when the fan in front of him glanced at Changkyun with worry. “He just gets cranky when he doesn’t have caffeine.”

Caffeine. Sure, if that’s the lie Minhyuk is going with today. Changkyun nodded at his words and took a gulp. To be fair, there was caffeine in the drink, but that isn’t why Minhyuk was concerned with his intake. The latte was laced with Lethe, a suppressant of sorts which Hyungwon produced, something each of them had in their cups.

With every new fan came a slight spike in power, and this latest tour in the United States performing in front of a non-k-pop audience had given them a dizzying wave of strength. They had to do their best to maintain the façade, ruining it would mean their demise. The labored, desolate death of forgotten gods. Changkyun shuddered at the thought. He didn’t want to lose the others so soon—for what was a few years in the eyes of an immortal?

About four years ago, he had almost given up in trying to find his family. Changkyun was in South Korea when he received the mysterious call from Starship Entertainment to join a show. No.Mercy. He chuckled to himself. That pointless charade. There was a reason they had been gathered under the spotlight—to assuage any suspicion of ulterior motives. What a farce—the outcome had been decided once K. Will met him face-to-face. Due to Shownu’s puppeteering, K. Will knew about the others and that there was a missing piece—Changkyun. And the rest, as they say, was history.

He hadn’t been around his own kind for so long, Changkyun could feel his true self struggling to the surface. Despite his best effort, the warrior side of him had been beating against his ribcage, begging to be let out. Unfortunately the moment it escaped was when he walked into the restaurant to meet the others. K. Will could sense it, and he high-tailed out of there at the first chance he could. Coward.

It took its toll on him. He had finally found his kin, and they were turned away by his accidental influence. Jooheon was the first to know and understand. Changkyun had confided in him and appealed to his logic as soon as the cameras left them for the day. Changkyun could still remember the lopsided grin that spilled across Jooheon’s face when it hit him that this wasn’t some elaborate prank or nefarious scheme to oust him. It took the others much longer to come around, due to the lights and lenses trained on them constantly as the competition reached its climax. He couldn’t risk revealing himself until that breath after their debut.

It didn’t take long to determine which of his brethren had survived. There were so many clues, signs littered about their beings that appeared without the slightest of digging. The scents of cypress and rose that lingered about their space, the poppies painted on the inside of bunk beds, the ivy that refused to detach from the side of the dorm building, and that one member who flat out refused to leave the kitchen.

When they lost their following due to the shifting tides of time, they learned that adapting to humans was the only chance of their survival. Every sixty to eighty years they would re-insert themselves into the world, fully aware of their selves and their capabilities. They would struggle to find a toehold within a quickly modernizing world. Every time they re-entered the space some were left behind, forgotten forever. The seven that were still here had fought, tooth and nail, to remain.

Changkyun couldn’t help but smirk at the ingenuity of opting to be k-pop idols this lifetime. Large, dedicated followings that would write odes (also known as fan fictions) and provide offerings (usually in the form of food or stuffed animals) that kept them going, kept them relevant. It wasn’t without its hiccups and stressful moments. A wrong movement here, a rumor there, an award un-obtained—these possible pitfalls nipped at their heels and reinforced the need for perfection.

A motion to his right caught Changkyun’s attention and dragged him out of walking the philosopher’s path. The fan high-fived Minhyuk before moving to the seat in front of Changkyun. She sheepishly handed over a stuffed owl, an ‘Athene noctua’ to be exact, and he rewarded her with a soft smile.

“Ah, my favorite. How kind.”

…

Changkyun resisted the urge to crash as soon as he kicked off his shoes in the dorm doorway. The others had already filtered through, shedded bags and coats were neatly stacked and hung at the door. He was exhausted. The kind of exhaustion that didn’t stop at weighing his bones but continued until it seeped into his soul. Pretending to be something he wasn’t—it picked at his energy, at his psyche. The others seemed content to ride out this lifetime without too much thought.

Changkyun rolled his head, popping the joints in his neck, as he opted for solitude elsewhere. He turned for his studio, silently closing the apartment door behind him.

The walls of his space were lined with bookshelves taller than himself. The topics ranged from musical history to biographies through mathematical theories and theatrical productions. A small, yet prominent, bookcase was dedicated to certain classic fiction and sci-fi for relaxation. Titles such as Finnegan’s Wake brushed covers with Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy.

His finger traced along the spines of well-loved, time-worn tomes juxtaposed by crisp, modern books that he had only cracked open a few dozen times. He passed over an anthology of Oscar Wilde, skipped by Godel, Escher, Bach: An Eternal Golden Braid, and gracefully swiped The Art of War from the shelf.

The book had seen much better days—as evidenced by the way it easily fell open to a certain spread when he laid the spine against his desk. Changkyun stared down at the pages, eyes drawn to a particular quote.

“All war is deception.”

Changkyun leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling. He never thought he would miss Ares, but here he was. Wishing for simpler times when he would put down the other for his blind bloodlust and warmongering. Changkyun preferred a more measured approach, and he did not fight his battles without purpose. Ares was raw, unrefined yet the purity of his rage was something Changkyun envied. Ares did not know how to be anything but himself.

All war is deception. He was indeed warring with himself, led by others to deceive both inwardly and outwardly regarding his true form and powers. Sometimes that internal war leaked out and he found himself struggling against the others’ decision to tamp their natures down. He had almost gotten away with skipping his dosage one month, but they had forced it down his gullet nonetheless.

Changkyun was tired. Tired of all of it. One way or another, he was going to do what he wanted—he was going to win this war no matter what it took. Changkyun slid the book back onto the shelf and turned off the light in his studio as he went to bed. The quote reverberated in his subconscious.

All war is deception.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note, this chapter includes the description of a panic attack. This may be discomforting for some readers.

A slow breath in.

A slow breath out.

Shownu’s knuckles brushed against his jaw as he drew the string taut. He closed one eye and took another breath before letting go. He always furrowed his brow as he checked his mark. The center of the bullseye was no longer in existence due to the number of arrows crowded around that minuscule spot. The only way he could fit another was if he began to split the ones already there. Shownu went to clear the arrows and replace the target.

ISAC was nearing, but he needed the least amount of practice out of those participating in archery. The corners of his lips twitched as he remembered Minhyuk’s scores in 2016. Shownu never heard the end of it despite them all knowing he held himself back. Too much perfection would look suspicious. He just enjoyed being able to exercise a part of himself that would seem out of the ordinary otherwise. Shownu planted his feet at the makeshift line and raised the bow.

A slow breath in.

A slow breath—

Images flashed through his mind—sunlight streaming through the canopy of the forest, wild hair dancing about a face beaming with happiness, sounds of wildlife and rushing water mixing about in the air. Shownu doubled over, hands grasping his knees as he pulled himself to the present. Tears were streaming down his face as the thoughts of his twin sister rose unbidden. He never knew when the sadness would well up to the point where it would spill over the edge beyond his control. The humans believed time would heal all wounds, or at least that was what they told each other. No amount of time would erase the memory of the millennia he and his sister spent together. For a god, time ebbed and flowed differently.

Shownu wrangled his breathing back to semi-normal, though his chest still throbbed. He looked up and groaned as he saw the arrow had dug itself into the wall. Their manager wouldn’t be happy about this. And the others…he could hear their incessant questioning already. He buried his face in his hands and huffed out a breath. It didn’t upset him that they cared. It hurt him, like the knife he felt was permanently lodged in his heart was being slowly twisted, yanked out, and plunged in again. They were his salvation and his demise, all wrapped into one tidy package.

He slumped against the wall and slid downward. He could feel it—the weight of their lives on his shoulders. He never understood why they trusted him so much. Maybe it was the work he put in to bring about and influence No.Mercy. Maybe it was the blind faith they needed to find a new subject to direct it toward. Maybe it was the overwhelming guilt he felt for all of the brethren left behind. Scores, hundreds of the Theoi gone. Her included.

What if they couldn’t make it to their next life? He had yet to find the Moirai, to recruit their help to maintain his shrinking family. Without the Moirai…it was likely he would see his sister sooner than predicted. Shownu gasped. His chest was tightening further, air was difficult to acquire. The room spun as he attempted to become one with the hardwood floor underneath him.

Somewhere, miles away, he thought he heard footsteps. A hand under his chin—a gentle, yet firm, pull upward.

“Look at me.”

Shownu’s eyes met the determined gaze baring down on him.

“Listen to my breathing.”

Minhyuk breathed in and out through his mouth until he was satisfied that Shownu matched the pace with his own. He sat cross-legged and moved his hand to cup Shownu’s cheek.

“Better?”

Shownu gently moved Minhyuk’s hand to wipe the tears from his face and nodded. He hated how Minhyuk could sense his darker moments. Shownu used most of his energy to hide his emotions, thus leaving no room to create false ones. Most outside of their group laughed it off, calling him a robot. But the others knew. They knew what kept their leader up at night. Minhyuk…Minhyuk was usually there beside him. A silent, comforting presence.

Minhyuk noticed the arrow sticking out of the wall and let out a low whistle.

“Want me to give you some lessons?”

Shownu grinned and lightly shoved Minhyuk, which caused the younger one to topple over. He bounced back up and his tone grew serious.

“You were thinking about them again, weren’t you.” Despite his soft tone, the statement left a faint sting.

“Yeah.” Shownu sniffled and cleared his throat. “I’m fairly sure I found everyone but…”

“But there’s always a chance.”

Shownu carefully considered his friend. Minhyuk, perpetually positive. Eternally the master wordsmith. That trait had gotten them out of more than a few trouble spots, but had also landed them in scrapes as well. Everything went according to Minhyuk’s plans of trickery when his words were involved, so Shownu always maintained a healthy wariness. Especially after that thing with the cattle—admittedly when they were both much younger.

“If that’s what we need to tell ourselves.”

“I, for one, am surprised they have lasted this long.” Minhyuk reclined on his elbows and watched as Shownu stood to stretch. “That fortune teller shtick was getting old.”

“That ‘shtick’ kept them alive, which in turn kept us alive.” Shownu’s eyes flashed at Minhyuk, and Minhyuk yielded by shrugging his shoulders. Shownu rubbed his chin. “Huh, maybe I should check New Orleans.”

“You didn’t start there?” Minhyuk chuckled. “After what happened in the 20s? That would have been my first stop.”

“I can’t see that far this soon after a dose.” Shownu began to stow the bow and quiver of arrows. Minhyuk sprang up.

“I’ll go tell Hyungwon to give you as much time as possible when he does his next session.” Before Shownu could say any more, Minhyuk had skipped away.

Shownu’s chest was still sore from the episode earlier and he could feel himself rapidly draining. He clambered up the stairs until a metal door spat him out onto the rooftop. The sun gently whispered over his skin at first. The clouds cleared to let the sun dazzle, and an especially strong pulse of energy sizzled along his muscles. Shownu hummed at the thrum of power. He hadn’t felt anything like this since…since Artemis was alive.

He shoved away any further thoughts about her, knowing that if he kept pushing away it would only get worse, but he wasn’t ready. Not yet. First he had to take care of those that were still alive before he concerned himself with those that were gone. There wasn’t anything he could do for them. For those that were currently depending on him for direction, he would do anything to keep them going, keep them together. It was up to him now.


	3. Chapter 3

Granules of sand shifted beneath his wriggling toes. The call of a seagull overhead pierced through the dull roar of crashing waves. A zephyr tinged with salt and sun lifted tendrils of his hair. Wonho inhaled, savoring the tangy aroma of the ocean. He lay in repose on the shoreline, soaking in the ambiance of Litochoro. He was enjoying the gentle heat from the rays of light beaming down. Though to him, the warmth from the sun paled in comparison to his fans’ love.

Today was a rarity—it was unusual for Wonho to take time for his mental health like this. Typically he was doing something to better himself in some tangible way. Be it by taking care of his body or learning new composing styles, he was always up to something. He liked the pride within the gaze of his fans as they listened to a new song of his or watched him perform.

Wonho hadn’t felt this close to his followers since the golden age of the Theoi, when he and his brethren would deign to walk among mortals in their full glory. Perhaps he felt even closer to them now. Technology lended something intimate to his relationship with his fans—he could pick up his phone right now and go live with his thoughts, if he so chose. Then tens of thousands, if not hundreds, would be there with him in that moment, sharing the same space of concentration.

He reveled in this lifetime. Wonho not only had his love for himself but the devotion of his following. Some were initially drawn by his physical appearance, but most had been pulled in by his overflowing joy—a byproduct of the adoring throngs. Such a cyclical and beneficial relationship that he never would have fathomed.

An earbud was tugged from his ear and the illusion was shattered by the sound of waves being halved. Wonho cracked an eye to see Changkyun hovering over him.

“What do you want, little owl?”

Changkyun clicked his tongue.

“Careful, I might just fall in love with you if you keep calling me that.”

Wordlessly, Wonho shifted over on the bed to let Changkyun settle in next to him. On his side with a hand supporting his head, Wonho observed as Changkyun wrapped a blanket burrito-style around himself until all Wonho could see was the top half of Changkyun’s face.

“S’wha’re y’doin’?” Changkyun’s voice barely filtered through the fleece.

Wonho sighed and pulled down the hem, tucking it under Changkyun’s chin.

“Thank you.” Changkyun grinned. “So, what were you doing?”

“Just meditating.” Wonho slid the pods back in their case, avoiding Changkyun’s gaze. Changkyun remained quiet, prompting Wonho with the awkwardness of silence. Another, long-drawn sigh pushed through Wonho’s lips.

“What’s on your mind?” Changkyun snuggled deeper into the wrapped blanket, eliciting a soft smile from Wonho. He gently brushed hair from Changkyun’s forehead; Changkyun hummed in response.

“Just—just thinking about how things were. And how they are now.” Wonho’s arm dropped back to the mattress.

“Have you given any thought to the future?” Changkyun’s eyes never flickered from Wonho’s face. The older dodged him again, picking at a snag in the sheet rumpled betwixt them.

“What of it?”

It was Changkyun’s turn to sigh, but it didn’t sound as if it were born out of frustration.

“You know I can’t think too much about it.” Wonho’s fingertips worked at the knotted thread until the fabric was shoddier than before.

He was truly unable to consider it. Wonho wasn’t concerned about the absence of the Moirai like he had heard his brethren were through their whispers. The Moirai had never let the other Theoi down before, why would they start now? If they wanted to show themselves, then they would. He didn’t want to rock the boat, to interfere with the fates themselves.

Even if the Moirai were done with them or gone—Wonho dreaded that train of thought. What would come next, if anything at all? His stomach started to twist into knots just thinking about it. As with other thoughts that sent him into distress, his mind pushed it away.

“Wonho?” Changkyun’s low voice pulled Wonho back to the surface.

“Mmm?”

“Want to talk about it?”

Wonho’s stomach refused to untwist and there was an eerie prickling along the nape of his neck. The way that Changkyun was pushing, prodding at his ideations unsettled Wonho. As if Changkyun was playing with things that ought not to be messed with. Wonho couldn’t fully discern the motivation behind Changkyun’s plotting, and that frightened him even more. He suddenly wanted to be far, far away from Changkyun and his machinations.

“Little owl, I’m going for a run.” Wonho lightly kissed Changkyun’s brow before crawling over him and standing up from the bed. “Take a nap there, if you’d like. I won’t be back for a while.”

As Wonho slipped out of the room, he could feel Changkyun’s calculating stare on him as he retreated.

Changkyun rearranged himself to where he was laying on his back, eyes searching for something to focus on. He knew Wonho would be tricky, but didn’t expect to actually push him away. He needed to take more care in his next steps. The scales were now looking as if they would tip out of his favor.


	4. Chapter 4

Once a month, Hyungwon secluded himself in the kitchen and threatened anyone with severe consequences should they interrupt him. Usually they didn’t dare, but there was that one time an intoxicated Jooheon almost stumbled in. Thankfully, Minhyuk was quick to swoop in, guiding him away and fussing over him. Hyungwon would dedicate the entire night to producing that month’s amount of Lethe. He would refresh the back-up stores as well, and stock their emergency travel packs. After the show Right Now, Hyungwon didn’t put it past the company to shove them into unmarked vans at a moment’s notice.

Hyungwon was typically so spent from the night used for concocting the suppressant that he would use the entire next day for slumber, but he knew the sacrifice and resulting exhaustion were worth it. He always contemplated why, as the god of sleep, he would give away his most precious hours to the others. Then he would remember what happened to those who went without it and just how much he needed the other six, no matter how annoying some of them might be. He was still bitter about his comrades sticking so ardently to the age construct their current society valued so much. So bitter, in fact, it was hard to hide his true feelings.

Hyungwon let a giggle slip when he remembered the compilation video a fan made about it. At least their following found it funny. It might have even gained them a few more fans at that. Regardless, he still chafed at being the only non-Olympian in their group. None of the others explicitly put him down, but he saw the snide looks Kihyun would shoot him when he thought Hyungwon couldn’t see. Kihyun didn’t even have much room to be looking down on Hyungwon, as he himself didn’t even have a full seat at the table. But now that there were so few of them left…

The others were clearly grateful for Hyungwon. They had seen the chaos that occurred when Lethe was not taken. He remembered last June, when all six of them had to hold Changkyun down and make him ingest it. Things were getting heated in the region, and they couldn’t risk a war when so many of them would have to serve their time soon. It wouldn’t have been so drastic if they knew where the Moirai were. Everything would calm down once they were located, Hyungwon nodded to himself.

He straightened, moving away from the counter he was leaning against. He lifted the lid off of a pot to check the color. It was slowly turning from cerulean to clear. Good, not much longer then. He chuckled at the memory of the first and last time Kihyun attempted to make Lethe. The brew had turned an awful puce, and Hyungwon refused to let any of them so much as breathe it in. He could still picture the sour, dissatisfied expression on Kihyun’s face. The only thing he could not do in the kitchen. Hyungwon’s chuckle morphed into a guffaw.

Hyungwon spent the last hour cleaning up his materials. The others didn’t need to accidentally use any of the ingredients, so he tucked them away on a shelf too high for any of them, other than himself, to reach. He started to pull out what he’d need to mix it with for each of them—a small gesture of appreciation for his fellow Theoi. He’d always bring them the first dose of the month, a ritual he started when they debuted. They didn’t need it as much before their debut and shortly thereafter, but once the fan base grew it was no longer an option.

Minhyuk and Jooheon were the first to get theirs. Minhyuk was on the couch, watching something on TV, with Jooheon on the floor in front of him, leaning back against Minhyuk’s legs. Minhyuk played with the younger one’s hair as Jooheon was mumbling to himself and writing down lyrics from time to time. As Hyungwon approached, Minhyuk lifted one of his hands to accept the strawberry smoothie and nodded his thanks. Hyungwon placed a beer on the floor next to Jooheon, knowing he would find it after jotting down whatever was racing through his mind.

Next, he found Wonho and Kihyun. Wonho’s arm draped over the side of the bunk bed as he napped face-down. Hyungwon double checked that the lid to the protein shake was secure before leaving it near the bed frame. Kihyun was across the room, facing the wall on his own bed, headphones drowning out any other sound aside from his music. Hyungwon gently laid his fingertips on Kihyun’s bare arm. Kihyun sat up and took the glass from Hyungwon. He raised it in a mock toast to Hyungwon before he sipped the lemonade.

Hyungwon gathered two of the three remaining portions and went to track Changkyun down. It was sort of a game between the two of them—Changkyun wanted to make Hyungwon work for the ability to make him take his dose of Lethe. This time, he was hiding out in Jooheon’s studio. Yoshi and Gucci were attempting to capture a clump of feathers on a string that Changkyun dangled lazily above them. Without looking to Hyungwon, he held out his other hand for the shot glass. When his fingers curled around it, he met Hyungwon’s gaze and clinked his glass against Hyungwon’s. They both downed their doses in one swoop. After the incident, Hyungwon had to monitor Changkyun’s intake. Changkyun insisted that if he had to be watched with such scrutiny, it was only fair that Hyungwon would endure the same.

Hyungwon visited Shownu last. He was dreading this, especially since the company had informed Shownu of his enlistment date. And it was soon—too soon.

“Having any luck?”

Shownu opened his eyes at the sound of Hyungwon’s soft voice. He sighed, running his fingers through his short hair, and shook his head.

“It’s as if…they have gone silent. Completely beyond my reach.”

Hyungwon sat on the floor beside Shownu. He placed a cup on the ground in between them. The echo of ceramic against wood bounced around the room. Silence hung about them for some time. Another sigh escaped Shownu.

“Thank you, Hyungwon.” He cradled the mug of tea betwixt his fingers and murmured something too low for Hyungwon to catch. He did this every time, and yet Hyungwon never caught his words. Shownu took a long quaff.

“What did you try this time?” Hyungwon’s eyes refused to drift to Shownu; he absentmindedly focused on the clock hanging on the wall.

“I went back to the area they were last seen. No one has dreamt of them for a while, now.” Shownu drank again, choosing to ignore the scoff that emitted from his companion.

“You know I don’t think this is our only approach to finding the Moirai.”

“And you know why it is.” Shownu’s gaze hardened as he stared Hyungwon down. “Even if some human saw them without recognition, their subconscious would still tuck that information away. In turn, it will eventually manifest as a dream.” He paused. “It’s not like there’s anyone else out there to help the search.”

Hyungwon returned his leader’s look.

“There is a way, you just don’t want to do it. Time is running out, Shownu—we don’t have long before you have to serve, and what then? Just leave us behind to fend for ourselves without any hope for the future?” Hyungwon knew the words were unlikely to break through, but he had to try.

“No. Not after what happened last time.” Shownu rose from the floor, and lifted his index finger threateningly at Hyungwon. “There aren’t enough of us left to take those sort of risks. End of discussion.”

Shownu tried to hide the sadness that crept across his face as his hand fell back to his side.

“I’m sorry, old friend, but I just don’t have it in me to lose you.”

Hyungwon bit back his retort as Shownu turned and left. He had endured a lot. More than the rest of them. Hyungwon groaned as he fell back, arms splayed out to the side as he stared at the ceiling. Another one of his artworks covered the expanse. He didn’t have the same skill as Shownu, but he still felt the need to cover every surface that could be easily missed by cameras. It wasn’t much to leave behind, yet it was better than nothing. That serene night sky…Hyungwon longed to see it again without a care.

“He won’t be convinced, you know.” Changkyun leaned against the doorframe. Hyungwon lifted his head to meet Changkyun’s eyes.

“It wasn’t me who went last time. He has to know that’s why.” Hyungwon’s voice cracked.

Changkyun leveled Hyungwon with an emotionless expression.

“You don’t need his permission.”

Hyungwon clamped his mouth shut and let his head drop back to the floor.

“No but…he’d never forgive me.”

“He won’t have the ability to forgive you when he’s gone.”

Hyungwon lazed in the pause. He pulled his head up to see that Changkyun was no longer there. Hyungwon was alone, yet again.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that there is drinking in this chapter, but no one gets drunk.

As they didn’t have obligations the next morning, Jooheon was going out. There was a bar nearby that he liked well enough to give his patronage and protection—unbeknownst to the owner. He just knew Jooheon as a regular who would lend a hand when new cocktails needed an opinion or the occasional confrontation smoothed over. These actions earned him more than his fair share of free drinks, and Jooheon decided that these little reminders of the old days were enough to keep him going through this life.

He was pulling on his shoes when he sensed Hyungwon hovering behind the couch.

“Hey, have a minute?” Hyungwon crossed his arms as he walked into view, observing Jooheon’s movements. Jooheon nodded as he laced his motorcycle boots tight and pulled the hem of his jeans over them.

“I need to know how you got past Charon.”

Jooheon stared blankly at Hyungwon for a moment before snatching the collar of his shirt, dragging him into the next room, slamming the door shut behind them, and shoving Hyungwon against the wall.

“Are you insane?!” Jooheon snarled up into Hyungwon’s face.

“Not particularly.” Hyungwon calmly watched as Jooheon fumed below him. “That’s why I need to know.”

Jooheon unclenched his fist from Hyungwon’s button down and tightened it again as his arm hung loose by his side. He blew out a breath, and Hyungwon waited patiently for him to speak.

“Even if I told you, it’s not like it would work again.” Jooheon slowly tapped his fists against his thighs. Hyungwon was grateful they weren’t aimed elsewhere.

“Surely he’s forgotten.”

“You really think that? He remembers every single soul that has passed over on his ferry—including the time I snuck over.” Jooheon sat on the nearest bunk bed and cracked his knuckles.

“Great!” Hyungwon stood in front of Jooheon, a triumphant grin appearing on his face. Jooheon found it unsettling.

“How is that great?”

“I may not have to cross over the river at all!” Hyungwon’s sudden enthusiasm didn’t falter under Jooheon’s piercing scrutiny.

“Hyungwon…why are you going to the Underworld?”

“Right, I got ahead of myself.” Hyungwon settled onto the bed across from Jooheon. “Shownu has been checking dreams. And only the living have dreams. So if the last person to see them wasn’t alive—”

“So what? You’re going to see if a shade knows what happened to the Moirai? I’m not at all convinced of your sanity now.” Jooheon rose from the bed to pace and pushed his hair away from his face. “Gods, Hyungwon. We’ve been trying so hard to stay alive and here you are willing to throw your life away. Not to mention putting the rest of us into jeopardy!”

“We’re screwed either way.” Hyungwon grew serious as he stood and caught Jooheon by a shoulder. “At least on this path, if the Moirai are really gone, we’ll know for sure and be able to plan accordingly and not be fumbling about in the dark.”

Hyungwon almost flinched as Jooheon raised a hand, but he was only brushing away Hyungwon’s arm.

“Fine. But by Zeus, if Shownu or Minhyuk get a whiff of you actually going through with it, you’re on your own.”

Hyungwon’s grin returned. “Deal.”

…

Jooheon’s brow refused to shift from its furrowed position. Hyungwon’s scheme was idiotic, but it might be the only thing to give them a clear direction. He hated that Hyungwon would be putting himself in danger, especially when they had no other access to Lethe. Jooheon huffed, feeling the anger from before welling up inside of him again. For some reason, Lethe was losing its hold on him. Each time Hyungwon gave him a new dose he wouldn’t feel the same extent of a dampening on his powers.

Maybe it was his fans. Maybe it was the nature of his unique godliness. The “twice born, outsider god” in him fighting against these restraints made by simpler beings. Whatever it was, he needed to get a grip on it and quickly. A woman slid onto the barstool to Jooheon’s right. She coyly tossed her hair over one shoulder and started to lean toward him, her hand poised to land on his arm.

“Not tonight, sweetheart.” Jooheon continued to stare ahead as he slowly swirled the red wine in his glass. His rebuttal was soft enough that she did not react aside from standing and moving away. Jooheon emptied the glass. He used the tips of his fingers on the base to slide the wineglass toward the bartender, who nodded and reached for another bottle.

Movement on his left confirmed another potential suitor had set their sights on Jooheon. This time, a cocky grin played on the man’s lips as he tilted his head toward Jooheon.

“Not tonight, sweetheart.” Jooheon lightly drummed his fingers against the bar counter. The man slinked away. His bartender filled his glass.

“A calmer vibe tonight, I see.” He flicked his eyes up to Jooheon. “Thank you again for helping me with that trouble the other night. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Probably not have to order as much wine. Oh, and hire a bouncer.” Jooheon chuckled. The bartender returned his laugh.

“You’re worth it.” He patted the bar, then turned to serve other patrons.

“Come here often?” A low voice tickled Jooheon’s ear as someone sat next to him. He prepared to turn another mortal down when he twisted to see Changkyun with his eyebrow cocked and a cheeky smile playing on his lips. “What, are you striking out? How unlike you.”

Jooheon simply sipped his drink.

“He spoke to you, huh?”

Jooheon nodded, unsurprised at how quickly Changkyun caught on.

“I’ll have one of whatever he has.” Changkyun waved the bartender down.

“I didn’t know you academic types enjoyed clouding your intuition.”

“The best type of learning is hands on, and tonight I’m learning about modern wine.” Changkyun grinned and swatted at the air with his hand. “Besides, I bet it’s better than what they used to pour out for us.”

Jooheon snorted into his glass. Changkyun wasn’t wrong.

“Thank you.” Changkyun smiled as a drink was handed off to him. “Cheers, brother.”

“Cheers.” Jooheon murmured low as their glasses clanked. Changkyun’s smile twitched a little wider.

“You do seem a bit more serious this evening. Tell me, what tips did you give our dear Hyungwon?” Changkyun leaned an elbow on the bar and propped his head to where Jooheon could not escape his view.

“And you seem oddly satisfied.” Jooheon narrowed his eyes as Changkyun shrugged nonchalantly.

“Who me? I’m just along for the ride. Now come, come, share your knowledge.”

“There’s nothing to share. At least nothing that you didn’t already know.”

“Are you sulking, Honey?” Changkyun’s eyes flashed with comprehension. He leaned toward Jooheon, lowering his voice. “I can sense your madness from here, brother. You might want to do something about it.”

Jooheon released the wine glass before it shattered in his grasp.

“Thank you for pointing out the obvious.” He gritted through his clenched jaws. “I just want this uncertainty to be over.”

“I want it to be over too—you’re starting to get frown lines.” Changkyun brushed his fingers over Jooheon’s forehead. He jerked his hand back and laughed when Jooheon snapped his teeth at Changkyun’s fingertips. “I’ll leave you to it.”

Changkyun tossed a bill down beside his glass and stood.

“Just don’t come home until it’s done, yeah? We don’t need the questions.”

Jooheon waved Changkyun away with a nod.


	6. Chapter 6

Hyungwon’s faded memory of the realm of Hades attempted to overlay the landscape before him—yet the images refused to meld. Grand palatial structures now stood derelict from millennia of neglect. Withered ivy clung like twisted, rusty chains around pillars that were missing chunks of marble. Some pillars were missing full parts of their middles, lending harsh molars to the maw of a door. Stairs crumbled beneath even his wisp-like body, making it clear the only ones to pass through recently were non-corporeal beings.

Hyungwon gave a brief thought to Artemis. She hadn’t traveled to the Underworld prior to her demise—what must she have thought about his home? Hyungwon knew of her bravery, but even one from the Underworld would tremble before the beings that dwelt there. Even with the Underworld as an echo of its former terrifying glory, he could still feel a shake to his step as he made his way lower and lower.

Before long, he caught a glimpse of the shimmering waters of the Archeron, otherwise known as the river of pain. He knew his quarry would be nearby—there were no shortage of shades to cart from one end of the world to the other. Hyungwon crept closer to the riverbank, wanting to spy Charon before he himself was seen.

A voice wafted over the water. Hyungwon almost yelped in surprise but caught it in time.

“Who is bound for a rest from evil toils and mortal troubles?”

Hyungwon searched for the source of the sound. He saw the boat before he saw the captain—the low-hung prow of a skiff split the water without a ripple. Standing within it was a fearsome being. His hair was tangled and wild, skin aged beyond time itself yet miraculously still clinging to the weathered frame of a man-shaped being. His nose was a zig-zag crooked, as if a few hundred of his passengers had broken it along their way. He leaned against the pole in his hands and leered at Hyungwon.

“Charon,” Hyungwon inclined his head.

“Brother Hypnos.” Charon grinned wretchedly with a mouthful of jagged teeth. Hyungwon felt a shiver roll down his spine. “Where have you been hiding?”

“Among the mortals, harvesting their devotion.”

“How irksome. I could not imagine pinning one’s survival on the whims of mortals. I will accept that as a viable excuse for not visiting me.”

Hyungwon clenched his jaw. Charon served as a function to the Underworld; he was not burdened with the same difficulties as Hyungwon and his six remaining brethren. He painstakingly collected himself. Charon was one to handle carefully if he wanted his information, and truthful information at that.

“I’ve come seeking answers.”

“Directly to business, I see.” Charon straightened.

“Have you heard any mention of the Moirai?”

A shadow crossed Charon’s visage. Hyungwon was afraid he was irritated at the subject matter of the question, but it might have been just simple irritation.

“I should think to demand payment of you. Answering your questions takes time out of my busy schedule and halts my sacred duties.” Charon smirked, sweeping an arm in the direction down the riverbank. It was then that Hyungwon noticed the shades of those awaiting to cross to their final eternity, some staring with cold, hungry eyes.

Hyungwon felt for the object in his pocket; an obol, with the impression of a bee stamped on it. Hyungwon flipped it to Charon with the tip of his thumb. Charon snatched it out of the air with frightening dexterity. He inspected it for a moment before swiftly tucking the coin away and responding.

“None that have crossed this river borne by my skiff have mentioned our fate-crafting brethren.”

There was a pang in the depth of his stomach as Hyungwon felt his heart plunge.

“No one said anything about the Moirai?”

“Not a single shade.”

Hyungwon’s eyes narrowed, wanting to take Charon at his word. He turned the sentence over in his mind, probing it for loopholes or chinks in the verbiage. ‘None that have crossed this river’…Hyungwon suppressed a surprised jolt as he recalled the scores of shades that had yet to cross over. It was a long shot, but a chance nonetheless. Hyungwon was determined not to return back to the world above empty handed.

“Thank you for your time.” Hyungwon bent his head low. Upon raising it, he saw a fleeting glint in those abysmal eyes. Charon simply gave a shallow nod and continued on his way.

“I’ll be awaiting your return. I would think it sooner, rather than later,” he rumbled over his shoulder as the skiff swept away.

Hyungwon bit back his retort. He needed to mentally prepare to speak with those who waited on their final resting spot, not concern himself with the quips of cranky old beings.

…

Hyungwon had been searching among the shades yet to traverse the river for an indescribable length. All that marked the passage of time was his increasing thirst as he spoke to a multitude of beings. The thirst began to weigh him down until he could barely raise himself on all fours. Just how long had he been there? It felt like eons. His mind spun with questions. He shouldn’t be affected like other living beings would be. This was his home. The only explanation that Hyungwon’s mind clung to was the warped state of the Underworld. The lack of the beings that would provide upkeep to the realm was of greater impact than Hyungwon imagined. The thought evaded him as it was replaced with the insatiable pull of his desire to drink of the Archeron.

Rocks bit into his forearms and kneecaps as he dragged himself over the gravelly river bank to the treacherous waters before him. As his fingertips thrust into the water he began to feel it. At first, it was pinpricks uncomfortably tickling along his skin. Then, dirks and daggers and stilettos piercing and puncturing into his pores. Was this worth it? The itch in his throat said ‘yes.’ Hyungwon cupped his hand, bringing the poorly made substitute drinking vessel to his mouth. The burn began to trickle down from his lips to his tongue to his throat to his gut. He doubled in pain, silently writhing next to the river’s edge.

When his muscles finally began to unclench and the physical pain subsided, that’s when he heard it. The sounds of the remaining Theoi keening, wailing over his death. A few words broke through here and there, nothing of the comforting sort. Shownu asking him why he ignored his direct orders—Wonho telling him he should have left well enough alone—Jooheon shouting an ‘I told you so’—Kihyun breaking down—

Hyungwon clapped his hands over his ears but it did nothing to quell the screams and sobs. He buried his face in between his knees and begged for it to stop. Yet there was no reprieve to be had. Hyungwon was slowly losing himself—all for a drink of water.


	7. Chapter 7

The kitchen had hidden Kihyun well enough that neither Jooheon nor Hyungwon had seen him tucked around the corner, straining to hear what was said.

“I need to know how you got past Charon,” Hyungwon stated flatly.

Kihyun smacked a hand over his mouth to stifle any possible sound that would slip out. Hyungwon was planning to go to the Underworld? Kihyun’s head spun but was jerked back to the present when he heard the door slam. He crept as quickly as possible while remaining undetectable.

Kihyun managed to discern the subject matter through the closed door. He shuddered against the wall. Once Hyungwon had an idea in his head, it was very hard for him to let it go. Shownu had confided in Kihyun about his conflicting feelings about letting Hyungwon traverse the Underworld, yet every time he reached the same conclusion. It was too dangerous to be worth it.

Every once in a while Kihyun would think that they had dropped it only to hear Hyungwon plotting with Jooheon or Changkyun or both. Now, all he was thinking about were each and every time he could have stepped out of the shadows and put an end to this miserable plan. What if it were his fault that Hyungwon failed? Should he have tried to help? Could he?

Kihyun couldn’t stop pacing. He would bet decades off of his life that his steps had worn a distinct path into the floor. If he followed the plan that Kihyun had overheard, Hyungwon should have been back by now. He should have been here way before now. Kihyun toyed with the mobile in his hand. There was a high chance his call would go ignored, even more so due to the fact that it was Thursday at 11:37 in the evening. He groaned and dialed—shakily holding the phone to his ear.

…

She caressed the strings with her fingertips, plucking out a melody that reminded him of green pastures. Minhyuk could feel the wind and the sun—nothing for him to worry about other than the ones who requested his patronage. Whether an athlete, a messenger, a thief, he assisted them all. What carefree days. He missed the camaraderie of the host of Theoi that he thrived with. The lighthearted ones that he now had to carry. Just as he had led those to their afterlife, with sweet promises flying from his tongue.

He opened his eyes to watch her move skillfully. Knuckles that did not bow, fingers that did not miss. He had given her lessons in exchange for his ability to call upon her to play for him as he pleased. It worked out to be a fairly consistent schedule—unless Minhyuk and the others were on tour—once a week, late at night. It helped him to have this escape. This time to think, this time to remember what once had been and could never be again. The others did not know what he did during this time, just that they weren’t to bother—

He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket and he cursed. She halted her playing, letting the last note drift lazily over the air.

“It’s not you, dear one. I have to take this.” He stood and stalked outside, leaving her alone in the now almost empty performance hall. “What.”

“Minhyuk, I’m sorry I know I shouldn’t have called but Hyungwon hasn’t come back and I’m worried that something has happened and I didn’t know what to do but—”

“Stop, Kihyun. Where is he?”

“He went to see Charon.”

Minhyuk stopped himself short of dashing the phone against the floor. He counted to ten before speaking again.

“When.”

“Almost 48 hours ago.” Minhyuk could hear the despair dripping through Kihyun’s voice.

“I will retrieve him. You will inform Shownu. Then, you will find the others and meet me at the dorms.” Minhyuk hung up as he heard Kihyun begin to sputter.

…

Kihyun, hearing the dial tone, slowly slid his device into his pocket. He dragged his now leaden feet toward Shownu’s studio. Surely Shownu would understand that Kihyun was not an encouraging party to these plans, but simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. Multiple times. He also failed to report this treachery to Shownu, but Kihyun did not have it in him to break their leader’s heart more than it already was. Well, now it was even worse.

The entryway to Shownu’s den was shut. Kihyun tiptoed forward. He wanted to scamper away and make someone else tell this news to Shownu. He stood, fingertip worrying at his lower lip. A voice like a low rumble sounded through the door.

“Don’t hover, Kihyun.” Shownu called.

Kihyun had no choice but to twist the handle and let himself in. Shownu sat on his heels, hands resting on his knees with eyes closed. The smoke from the incense burning on either side of him wound its way slowly about his figure.

“Shownu…” Kihyun sat cross-legged before him, unsure how to begin.

Shownu’s eyes popped open at the tone Kihyun used, and he zeroed in on Kihyun’s face. He leaned forward to rest his hand on Kihyun’s knee.

“Whatever it is, it’s probably best just to tell me.”

“Hyungwon is missing. He…he went to ask Charon about the Moirai.”

“How long ago?” Shownu’s voice suddenly became steely, and he retracted his hand. Kihyun checked his watch.

“48 hours.”

Just like that, Shownu’s demeanor changed. Kihyun felt a hard, cold aura about the older, as if he had shut himself off from letting his emotions be vulnerable any longer. Shownu was preparing himself for the worst, as he knew he would eventually have to.

“He made his choice. All that we can do is hope that it doesn’t take him to an early, and permanent, grave.”

Kihyun didn’t disagree, but the words, so devoid of emotion, caused him to quaver. Any excuse, any explanation of his prior knowledge of their plans melted on his tongue and refused to solidify. He needed to move past what he could have, or should have, done.

“Min…” Kihyun’s voice faltered, and he cleared his throat. “Minhyuk went to retrieve him.”

It was at this moment he truly knew fear. He could hear Shownu’s heart stop before proceeding to beat frantically. Kihyun had heard of their history and yet was still taken aback by the intensity with which Shownu reacted. Shownu, the one who was always so keen to hide his emotions. Hyungwon was the key to the survival of them all, and Minhyuk was the glue that held Shownu together. Without Minhyuk, they were without Shownu.

“We’re going.” Shownu attempted to rise, yet he was held back by fingers gripped around his wrist. Kihyun couldn’t believe he had done that—instantly opposing his leader.

“Minhyuk said to wait here with the others.”

Shownu stared at Kihyun, his own surprise at Kihyun’s actions mixing with anger at being told to sit still while Minhyuk risked his life for Hyungwon’s. For a moment, they both froze. Shownu nodded; Kihyun released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

“Fine. Let’s get the others.”

Kihyun gnawed at his bottom lip as they gathered up the remaining three—Jooheon, Changkyun, and Wonho. Wonho was the only one purely innocent of them, and Kihyun could see the concern and confusion swirling in his eyes. Jooheon and Changkyun seemed to be set in their expressions—jaws tight, defiant. Yet both of them indicated a weight hanging about their shoulders.

“Hyungwon is missing, and Minhyuk has gone to find him.”

Kihyun was shocked by their leader’s bluntness but bit his tongue. Jooheon and Changkyun exchanged glances while Wonho’s jaw dropped.

“Did he—where did he go?” Wonho’s question hung in the charged air.

“I’m not here to blame or point fingers, but someone made him think that traveling to the Underworld on his own was a good idea.” Shownu’s eyes burned with a ferocity of mixed emotions. Kihyun thought he picked up on sadness, anger, and remorse. He sighed, feeling the guilt of not notifying the older sooner wrap a stronger grip around his lungs.

“What can we do?” Wonho tensed his muscles, ready to jump up at Shownu’s command.

“Nothing. We wait, and we see what comes of this.” Shownu held up a hand to quell Wonho’s protest. “If we rush in without knowing what’s happening we could ruin what Minhyuk has planned, or worse, risk losing more of us.”

Wonho sat back, crossing his arms.

“We just have to trust that Minhyuk knows what he’s doing.” Shownu’s words had a finality to them. It was up to Minhyuk, and Minhyuk alone, to bring Hyungwon back.


	8. Chapter 8

Minhyuk’s feet carried him over the well-worn path. His memory harkened back to the old days, millennia ago, when he would lead those to their final resting place. Or at least, take them to Charon, who would then cart them to their eternal location. Minhyuk considered his approach. He would need to put his skills in eloquence to their ultimate test—one of his brethren’s life was on the line.

Charon wasn’t too tricky once you knew what buttons to push. He took pride in his work; he had seen and interacted with every being that had lived and died, earning stories and information along the way. Minhyuk seemed to have a good relationship with him simply for how long they had known each other and due to the nature of their purpose to serve the dead. Just like any mortal, just stroke his ego in the right way and getting answers would be no issue at all.

Minhyuk heard the skiff before he heard Charon. He quickly replaced his worried visage with a neutral expression.

“Who is bound for a rest from evil toils and mortal troubles?”

“Brother Charon.” Minhyuk bowed his head with a genial smile.

“Brother Hermes.” Charon returned the gestures, his eyes glittering with amusement. “Have you come to see how the realm of Hades fares without its master?”

“Yes, along with you. It has been a long while, brother. I regret that I haven’t been able to see how you were getting on sooner.” Minhyuk tilted his head and sighed. “But you know how temperamental these mortals are when we leave them for too long. We must keep up appearances, after all.”

“It must be hard on you,” Charon nodded.

“It is, but I can’t imagine how it would compare to your situation. How is it that you manage to keep everything so orderly on your own?” Minhyuk was legitimately curious. Without assistance, this old being had kept at it.

“A trade secret, I’m afraid.” Charon folded his hands on top of the pole and rested his chin on them. “Why are you really here, brother? Not that I don’t enjoy your attempts to flatter me, but I know I’m not your sole purpose for the journey.”

Minhyuk knew Charon would sense his secondary intention. He could only hope that his attempt at a diversion would help and not hurt his cause.

“It seems that one of mine has gone missing. He was last seen entering the Underworld.”

“Oh, dear Brother Hypnos? Or Hyungwon, as he goes by now? Yes, I do believe I saw him.” Charon feigned the strain of recollecting. “Was it last week? Or yesterday? One can never be too certain what the comparison is to your passage of time.”

“Brother, I think you understand the importance of us sticking together in times like these. I need him. And in order to find him, I need your help.” Minhyuk’s jaw was so close to being clenched, but he knew he needed to be desperate, not angry. Charon watched him with those fearsome eyes for a moment.

“Out of respect for your time spent serving the Underworld for so long, I will grant you this one pardon. If you find Hyungwon, you may return to the surface with him.” Minhyuk started to speak his thanks, but stilled when Charon raised his hand. “This is the only favor you may have from me, Brother. If one of you returns when it is not your time again, I will not be so forgiving.”

Minhyuk bent so low he felt as if his forehead would scrape the gravel beneath him. “Thank you, Brother Charon.”

“My final help to you is this: the last time I saw him, he was searching the riverbanks for a shade. Beyond that, you are on your own.” Charon looked at Minhyuk sadly. “I will see you again soon, brother. Sooner than you think.”

With that, his skiff pushed away from the shoreline, leaving Minhyuk with a glimmer of hope shining through the bog of dread. Once the boat was out of sight, Minhyuk clapped his hands to his cheeks. He needed to focus on finding Hyungwon and not on Charon’s ominous words. He spent his time working around the river, asking shades both recently arrived and those who had not whether they had seen Hyungwon. He was starting to feel even more apprehension at the length of time it was taking him until he reached a particularly empty stretch of shoreline.

Minhyuk’s eyes rested on the figure in a heap next to the edge of the river. His breath caught as he pushed his legs harder and harder to reach the mass. It was Hyungwon, or at least a shell of him. He was whimpering, covering his ears and screwing his eyes shut. Minhyuk glanced from the river to the droplets still on Hyungwon’s chin and knew exactly what happened. He flicked the water from Hyungwon’s face, flinching at the sharp pain in his hand.

Hyungwon was too far gone to feel the hands that wrapped around him and picked him up. Minhyuk braced himself, and he headed for the path back to the entrance.

...

Before he opened his eyes, Hyungwon was hit with a devastating thought. He failed. Badly enough that he didn’t want to know whether he was actually alive or still floating somewhere in the Underworld. His eyelids slowly opened, thankful that wherever he landed, it was still dark.

“Hyungwon?” Wonho’s soft voice reached him. Hyungwon squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the wailing and screeching to start up again. He jumped at the hand on his shoulder. “Hey, hey it’s me. It’s really me.”

Hyungwon’s first sound was a sob. He blindly launched forward, arms reaching out to find the body beside him and confirm that it was real. Wonho let himself be held, rubbing a comforting hand over Hyungwon’s scalp and shushing his sobs.

“You’re okay, Hyungwon. We’re home.”

His sobs only intensified.

...

The mood in the living area was dour. The other five could hear Hyungwon’s cries from the next room, but none of them could bring themselves to move. Minhyuk had passed on Charon’s final words, and they were shellshocked. Charon always knew more than he let on, so it did not bode well for the septet of Theoi. Shownu had his own bad news. As he was healing Hyungwon, bringing him back from the brink, he had heard Hyungwon mutter: “they’re nowhere” and “no trace.” Shownu assumed this could only mean the Moirai.

Changkyun was curled up in the same spot he had been for the last few days while Hyungwon recovered. He’d only eat when Kihyun forced him, and when Jooheon found Changkyun sleeping he’d drape a blanket over Changkyun’s frame. He hadn’t predicted this. He knew there was a chance that things could go wrong, but not this wrong. At worst, Hyungwon would come back unscathed with a slap on the wrist from Shownu after delivering the news that the Moirai were dead, therefore leaving Changkyun to his own devices. He never would have thought that Minhyuk would enter into the equation, let alone Charon issue such a warning.

They had hashed it out while Hyungwon was resting, not wanting him to wake up to an even more stressful environment. Changkyun remembered the way that they had looked at him—disappointment. He had thrown in his lot to this self-proclaimed war, and he had lost. His escape, their respect, all gone. If it weren’t for their last stand, maintaining their life as it was until it was all gone for good, he’d be out. Free to do as he pleased, yes, but without a following. The slow, cruel death of a forgotten god.

“Hey.” Hyungwon’s feeble body leaned against Wonho’s in the doorway. Kihyun and Jooheon shot up immediately, followed by Shownu and Minhyuk. Changkyun remained in his spot. Wonho pushed them slightly back as he led Hyungwon over to the couch.

“I’m afraid I don’t have good news.” He looked each of them in the eye, resting on Changkyun when he wouldn’t meet the gaze.

“We know.” Kihyun laid a hand on his knee. “Shownu mentioned that you were saying things while in recovery.”

“I’m so sorry.” Changkyun could hear the break in Hyungwon’s voice and knew he was silently crying without even looking.

“It’s not your fault they’re gone. As for going to the Underworld, disregarding my explicit instructions not to…” Shownu steadied his breathing before continuing. “For now, I’m just glad you’re alive.”

Hyungwon was quiet for a moment as he sniffled.

“May I…can I have a minute?”

The others filtered out while Changkyun stayed frozen in place. Hyungwon waited until the door swung shut behind them.

“It’s not your fault.”

“But—”

“No.” Hyungwon’s tone was firm. “You may have encouraged me in a direction, but the final decision to go was mine.”

Changkyun couldn’t bring himself to disagree a second time; the guilt weighed him down regardless.

“I’m fine. I’m back home with you all, and we’re okay. For now.” Hyungwon’s voice broke again, and Changkyun almost missed the last two words that left Hyungwon’s mouth.

Changkyun lifted his head to meet his tear-stained eyes with Hyungwon’s still red ones.

“For now, we have each other.”

**Author's Note:**

> Twitter: @monmaddie  
> Monbebe Amino: I.M the Devil


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